


Someday

by Starkgirlfriday



Series: The Curiously Redacted Files of Cipher Nine [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Based on tumblr post: swtor writing prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkgirlfriday/pseuds/Starkgirlfriday
Summary: “Where you see darkness, I see stars.”—Laech Min-Glsain From Collected Poems, Prayers, and Meditations on the Force, Edited by Kozem Pel, Disciple of the Whills





	Someday

**Author's Note:**

> Prelude to: The Curiously Redacted Files of Cipher Nine Series

“I need you to make a supply run, can you do that for me, little love?” Her mother asked tensely while Evie was still wiping the sleep from her eyes. She gave a tired nod, sitting a little straighter as she did. Her mother had shaken her from bed while the stars were still sharing the last of their dwindling light. This had been her life for the past months, early mornings and a never-ending stream of these supply runs, most of which had taken place when she firmly felt she ought to still be sleeping.  
The kitchen staff had been awake for hours, preparing a tremendous feast which would or would not be eaten in accordance with the whims of the lords they served. They shared their quarters with four other families, all of whom were also already awake and were preparing for their various household duties. Older children assisted the younger ones with their daily routines, each putting on their required jewel-toned uniforms of the servants of House Thul. 

“We are out of Nerf meat again.” Her mother continued tiredly, in a voice that was louder than necessary. She threw an anxious look around her, monitoring the progress of the other servants in the room. Evie hands stilled over the buttons of her smock and tilted her head toward her mother, an indication that she was listening intently. They locked eyes over the significance of the sentence, young green eyes, staring into lined steely gray ones. 

“How much meat shall I say we need?” Evie asked slowly, slipping on her sturdiest walking boots, and throwing her cloak around her shoulders. 

“Ten kilos ought to do it. Lovely Nerf stew tonight.” 

“My favorite, ” Evie said though there was a note of sarcasm in her voice that was rewarded with a sharp flex of her mother’s worried brows. The last of the families withdrew just as her mother had seized her sternly by the shoulders and had positioned her at the vanity in front of her. Without warning, her mother attacked her florid hair, a mix of her father’s flaming red, and her mother’s more subdued darker locks, with a brush. This was an unprovoked attack, Evie thought sourly, on her mother’s part. She winced when the bristles snagged a tangled curl. 

“Please don’t make me wear it in a braid.” She pleaded with a soft pout of her lower lip. She had just reached her ninth standard year, and household rules were strict about the neatness of one’s appearance, even if one was only nine. Alderaanian braids were the tradition, and House Thul was nothing if not a stickler for tradition. Another snag, another wince, she favored her mother with a cross expression and was rewarded instead with a rare smile. Through tight lips, her mother bent close to her ear and whispered conspiratorially:

“It’s to hide the comb.” 

A slow, sly smile crept to Evie’s gap-toothed features. She sat rigid, making an effort despite the pain, to keep her head perfectly still while her mother smoothed her tresses into a fantastic flaming coiled braid at the top of her head. Her mother took her fingers and pulled a few tresses free to frame her freckled face and gave her daughter’s shoulders a satisfied pat. It was her favorite part of the market place ritual: the comb. 

It was an elegant thing, that once belonged to House Thul’s eldest daughter Elana, who had tired of it quickly and disposed of it by gifting it to the servants as was her habit. It was comprised of materials from other far away planets that Evie had only read about in holonovels, with fearsome teeth and sheen that Evie thought glittered like the distant stars on a hot Alderaanian summer night. It also contained a well-hidden secret that was known only to the Colspur family. Her mother suppressed a smile at her daughter’s eager expression that did not reach the corners of her mouth nor did it completely erase the trace of fear that was masked beneath maternal affection. 

“My little spy.” She whispered, slipping a datacard behind the large fan of the comb into Evie’s braid and securing it tightly. A devious smile spread to Evie’s features; this was her new nickname that her father had coined on the night that they had brought her into their secret game. The base of the comb was large enough to conceal the card completely and her braid was so thick that it was not detectable unless someone knew it was there. 

To any of the staff, to the guards on the grounds, to the nobles themselves, Evie would appear to be carrying out her list of household duties. She was truthfully being sent to the marketplace to find more Nerf meat, and she did love it when her mother made Nerf stew but when she was asked to retrieve ten kilos of meat, she was trained to make one additional stop on her trip. 

“You remember where to go and what to say?” Her mother asked tightly, drawing her daughter’s tiny cloak more securely around her shoulders to protect her from the chill of the Alderaanian spring air, which, with the wind blowing down from the nearby mountains, was quite frigid this early in the morning. 

“I ought to by now. This is the sixth time this month.” She pushed her mother’s hands, which were rough, burned, and nicked from the various tools in the kitchen, away when her fussing became too much for someone that was about to embark on a very grown-up sort of quest. 

“Take the longest route possible; be mindful of your surroundings and those who have sharp eyes and ears. If you’re caught...” Her mother’s words sat heavily in the empty room. 

“Deny it all and run away.” Evie recited dully; her parents each had their own version of this speech and she’d heard it each time she took another datacard to their mysterious contact. Their constant state of tension was if she was honest, irritating to her. She remembered a time before the disagreements between the houses had erupted when her parents had smiled, taken her to the fields to let her run with her hair free from its cursed, tight, and dare she say it, itchy braid. She tried not to miss those days; she had responsibilities now that fulfilled that same desire for adventure. 

“You have a knack for this you know. I wager the Republic will have its eyes on you too one day.” 

“What if I decide to be a nerf herder or a cook instead?” Evie asked with a teasing wrinkle of her nose before she and her mother burst into a fit of giggles at the absurdity of the suggestion. Evie’s mother put a pair of exasperated hands on her daughter’s cheeks and brought her smooth forehead to her lips for a tender kiss. 

“You will be a leader of many things in your life my love, but an army of cooks or a herd of nerfs is decidedly not in your future. Be quick, and don’t dally in the fields this time. We need that meat well before supper.” 

On her way through the kitchens, which radiated heat and a variety of tantalizing odors, she stopped by her father’s station. His strong hands were kneading dough for Five Blossom Bread, a traditional bread from her father’s homeworld that had been passed down for generations. He’d tried and failed many times to teach her how to make it and had long ago resigned himself to the idea that he might be the last member of their family to know the secret. He patiently added more meal to the dough and sprinkled a little water before slapping it back onto the wooden plank and kneaded it again. She watched, pretending not to be intrigued lest he tried to recruit her to learn how to make it again. He looked up from his loaf and fixed her with a weary smile, his green eyes, so much like hers, staring reticently at her dazzling comb.  
His smile quickly faded; he strongly objected to sending Evie on these missions. Though the Republic had strongly courted her parent’s sympathetic views towards steering House Thul into joining their legions, he had reservations about their trustworthiness. He preferred neutrality and wished that his wife and daughter felt the same. 

“On the way to the market, I see.” He remarked casually, casting his eyes about the room with a wary glance. The other cooks in the kitchen appeared to be too busy with their preparations to notice their quiet confab. 

“Nerf meat.” She said with a quiet roll of her eyes as her fingers lingered over a tray of Cavaellin spiced creams. She was about to steal one of the candies but her father, sensing her devious intent, gently slapped her hand away with a playful smile. 

“The Baron was in a foul mood last night, some sort of message he received. If you’re going to market, I suggest you go now before he wakes up.” His smile faded, the creases of fraught worry had returned. He motioned for her to come closer, pretending as though he were showing her his latest sweet delight. 

“You should say no to these informant missions, Evibail. No one will think less of you for doing so.” He whispered to her as he secretly slipped her a spiced cream when he saw that no one else was watching. She popped it into her mouth and savored the rich spice with her eyes closed. 

“I’m not afraid,” She lied; he’d laid out to her very late into the evening on the night they had included her in their plans, in very clear language what the consequences would be if she was ever caught. It was not a fate she could comprehend nor wanted and in truth, the thought of dying or losing her family terrified her. 

“Be careful, little spy. This is not a life I want for you; I’m afraid it won’t be a very long one.” He returned with a darkening expression casting a pall over his heat-flushed skin. He forced the heel of his palm into his dough with a tremendous frustrated thud and the topic was dropped. He knew a fruitless battle when he saw one; she was unrelenting in her insistence that she participate in their plans. Thoughtfully, she slipped out of the kitchen and into the sweet-smelling dawn, munching on another candy that she had secretly pilfered during his lecture, grateful for the freedom her life as their little spy had afforded her. 

 

Disaster swept through their lives like the intense gale of an impending storm. One moment, the street was clear. She made her approach as she had many times before. She was carrying her purchased Nerf meat in one hand. She stopped close to the spaceport at the rare crystal vendor, as was her custom, to inquire about a lavender crystal and make the exchange of the datacard. Before she could even form the words, a pair of hands seized her shoulders and a black bag was thrown over her head. There was a sharp impact against her skull, and then darkness. 

The bag was seized off her head roughly, pulling at the braid as it did. She managed to suppress an anguished cry as her eyes beheld the sight of the worst of her frantic nightmares. Her mother and father were bound with shock collars and their mouths were gagged. They were surrounded by guards with fierce weapons in their hands, accompanied by a sallow, balding man with gaunt features, and the pompous Barron of House. Evie sought her parent’s eyes for reassurance, and her mother’s cool gaze captured her own. With a subtle widening of her gray eyes, she saw her mother mouth the word: “lie”. 

All eyes were turned upon her with ferocious curiosity. Her mother and father struggled against their shock collars as the rawboned man approached her, looking sinister in the dim light of the brig. 

“You: girl.” The taller man began, looking more like a walking, talking skeleton to her. The thought brought a half-hearted smile to her lips that quickly faded. 

“What is your name?” 

“Evibail Colspur.” She shied away from him as a long fingertip touched the edge of her chin and turned her face into the light so that he could see it better. Her body trembled despite her best efforts to control it. 

“And the comb, what is its significance?” He regarded her with an appraising, cool, stare as though he could see into her mind and glean the truth. 

“It’s a pretty shiny thing,” She lied, trying her best to meet his eye, one of the many tricks her mother had taught her in recent months about lying. He smiled a slow, dry smile and turned back to the Baron. 

“I told you; she requires persuasion.” With a flick of his long fingers, the guards dragged her parents to the center of the room, into a single beam of sunlight that radiated from the room’s only window. 

“Kill them both.” He ordered sharply. 

The guards raised their blasters to her parent’s temples. Evie’s heart galloped in her chest as hot tears began to well in her eyes. 

“Wait!” She pleaded breathlessly; her mother gave a furious shake of her head, her father bowed his head in defeat. “I’ll tell you everything.” 

 

Red clay choked her lungs and covered her face. Overhead, a shock of lightening straggled across the sky, and still, despite the impending storm, they worked. She carried a basket of rocks over her shoulders, her body made strong by the constant work. In the distance, the shadow of the Colossus statue, a tribute to a Sith Lord she had never seen stood surrounded by scaffolding. The early evening air was dripping from the humidity and in the distant jungle, a Jurgoran youngling screamed for its dinner. All the while, she watched, waited, and worked as she had been doing for almost eleven standard months. 

They were kept separate from each other to discourage plots, and still, her parent's machinations on behalf of the Republic persisted. Her mother was caught and was dragged away from the camp on the fifth day after their arrival, deemed too dangerous to keep on site. The tall man that had overseen their capture had seen to it personally. Though Evie tried, she had no idea of her whereabouts and assumed, as was the case with all those that were taken away from the camp that she was long dead. 

Evie continually found ways to skirt the rules; she memorized routines, guard postings, and knew exactly where, in the camp, the distant lights could not find the shadows. She heard her father’s shrill whistle, echoing soft and low to her left. She crouched lower, avoiding the light, and crept her way behind a tent where he waited. He threw his arms around her tightly and drew her close for a tight embrace. She basked in the brief tenderness. 

“You know what to do, little love?” She heard her father whisper in her ear. Smaller Evie, fiery-haired, sinewy and trembling with anticipation nodded three times in succession. 

“Go to the terminal, enter the code, tell them that we require aide.” She recited in a whisper as her father gently palmed her wild hair in a fruitless attempt to control it. 

“And most importantly, don’t stop, run and don’t look back.” His hands, rough from work with stone and tools drifted to her ruddy cheeks. 

“I won’t leave you.” Evie insisted, her voice quivering with fierce determination. He smiled as the pad of his thumb brushed away a single stray tear. 

“You alone have the courage to see this through, Evibail. I trust no one else. Now go.” He pressed soft lips to her forehead and pushed her into the night. It was the last time she saw him alive. 

 

She ought to have listened, but her streak of stubbornness persisted and the first surge of hope that she had felt in a year gave her the motivation to share her joy with her father in person. He had to know that after all their sacrifice that the Republic planned to swoop in and stave off their impending doom. She waited three days, sleeping on the streets of Kaas City before she started her trek back into the jungle. 

She was stopped before her feet crossed the last taxi station on the edge of the jungle by a group of grim-faced guards and the one face that had come to haunt her dreams; the skeletal man with the drawn cheeks and solemn expression. Though they said nothing, she knew instinctively that they were waiting for her. She lost her will to fight, dropping instantly to her knees with her hands clasped behind her head. 

Days passed in a holding cell, deep in the heart of a tower known to city occupants as the Citadel. She had been informed that her father was killed organizing an uprising of slaves, his last act of defiance on behalf of the Republic. She’d held out hope for the first few days that the Republic would learn of her captivity and seek her out. After a week, that last vestige of hope had dwindled and died. She cried the last of her tears for her shattered family, for herself, and patiently waited for execution feeling as though at long last that death was a kindness. 

On her seventh day of captivity, the cell door slid open and the gaunt man entered, teetering hesitantly on the edge of the room. 

“I can be lenient when the right circumstances arise and I recognize young talent. How would you like a job?” He asked, his voice more gentle than it had been in the past now that she possessed something that he desired.

“Of course, you would be fairly compensated, and you’ll need considerable training. But, that’s not why I’m here. I thought you should know that your mother is still alive, and working in an Imperial camp on Ziost per my orders. You seem like a smart girl, so I won’t tarry with you any longer. Work for the Empire, bring glory to Imperial Intelligence and in exchange, the death sentence on your mother’s head will be lifted by me so long as your work is fruitful and you remain loyal. Should you survive long enough to have worked for twenty years, I’ll consider your debt paid and you’ll be free to go anywhere in the galaxy. Disobey, and it will not only be your life that hangs in the balance.” 

They sealed their devil’s agreement with a short handshake and he was gone. Quietly, in the heart of her little cell, she swore to herself that so long as she was living, she would live to protect her mother from harm, and if good fortune smiled upon her at last, she’d get to Ziost someday.


End file.
